


Got a Minute?

by RainbowMagicMarker



Series: Jane Shepard [5]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Drabble Collection, Drabbles, F/M, Gen, Mass Effect 2, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect), Spacer (Mass Effect), Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2283600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowMagicMarker/pseuds/RainbowMagicMarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Works and thoughts that are too short to stand alone, but quality enough that I want to post them. Beware spoilers from all Mass Effect games, tags and ratings will be updated as more stories are added. Primary focus on Jane Shepard (Paragon Engineer) found in my other works. This will be kept at the end of that series due to it's sporadic nature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got a Minute?

**Author's Note:**

> Garrus knows he can't last forever against the almost endless waves of mercs, but that doesn't mean he'll give them an easy win. When the end starts closing in on him he starts seeing something familiar, and he thinks he's okay with dying this way.
> 
> Garrus' POV, takes place on Omega during the Archangel recruitment mission.

When he started seeing red he knew there wasn't much left. Not just the red of human blood, though it didn't look very red when mixed with salarian and krogan and turian blood spilled out on the bridge, nor the red glow of a mech that the Eclipse sent out as a distraction sometimes. Not even the red orange of a fire when he had no choices left and had to use another ration of explosives. Sleep had stopped being an option a long time ago, when they started trying to confuse him by throwing ununiformed freelancers out into the open. They were getting smart, he was getting tired, and he only had so many stims left. 

Seeing red was almost a relief in some ways. Not just any red, a very special shade of red that he had followed into hell two years ago, the shade of red that tickled back of her neck as fingers danced over her omnitool and fell over her ears when she stared down the Council and framed her face at the end of a firefight. 

That was the red that he saw flash across his scope when he took quick stock of the movement across the bridge. The waves had let up, which meant they were either running out of people or something big was about to happen. After the number of freelancers he'd been forced to gun down, he was going to guess it was the latter and not the former. With a sigh he reached for a stim to shove into his armor's interface and a ration bar. He wasn't sure why he bothered because he knew it was almost over now, but his body had long since settled into a routine that his mind had absolutely no control over. 

And the whole time that his body went through the motions and waited for the mercs last push against his vantage point, his eyes caught flashes of that special shade of red on the other side of the barricades. Well, the Spirits had certainly picked the right person to lead him into whatever afterlife that lied in store for him; he'd follow that shade of red anywhere. He'd already followed it into hell once, and if he was going to follow it into hell again, then it couldn't be all that bad if she was there. 

When the movement started up again he settled his sniper rifle over the barrier and took aim, and for every stupid merc that funneled into his scope he fired a bullet, and for each bullet he fired a stupid merc that had funneled into his scope fell dead. Each shot was careful and precise and, ultimately, purely automatic as his mind had already accepted the idea that his countdown was rapidly approaching zero. Soon he'd join the rest of his team; he'd join those who didn’t survive the hunt for Saren. Most importantly, he'd join Shepard. He was okay with joining Shepard, he thought. 

Another shot lined up, and it was steel grey looking back at him down the barrel of the rifle, and that shade of red framed the determined gaze of the woman that looked him in the eye despite being unable to actually _see_ his eyes. Something in him hesitated, some part of his brain reconnected with his body long enough to flick the switch on his gun and squeeze off a single concussive round, even though he knew he was hallucinating, and his aim jerked down off of her face. The shot made her shields flicker, fade, and slammed into the woman's chest to send her staggering back a few steps. When she regained her balance her hands were on her hips and he could see her face twisted into the kind of expression that asked _So where's the kill count at, big guy?_ He was pretty sure that wasn't the kind of expression a spirit would give the person they were about to lead into hell. 

When she turned around and fired three shots from her pistol into the barricade he could imagine the sound of her voice as she gestured into his hideout and a salarian ( _Wasn't that the doctor?_ ) and a dark skinned human man he definitely didn't recognize followed her commands. Shepard wasn't far behind them, releasing a drone to disorient the mercs before her red hair disappeared from his scope and into his hideout. Garrus didn't understand what was going on, and he was too tired and too spent to try, but he knew one thing. 

He was going to live long enough to figure it out.


End file.
